Drunken History
by Thesilverlaurel
Summary: "It would seem that, despite the mad amount of beer he is capable of drinking, Germany cannot handle wine. It would also seem that when he's drunk, Germany is very talkative. I think he's telling me a story, but I don't know because he seems to have forgotten that I don't speak German."
1. Germany's History

**Please Note; writing in **_italics_** is said in German**

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It would seem that, despite the mad amount of beer he is capable of drinking, Germany cannot handle wine. It would also seem that when he's drunk, Germany is very talkative. I think he's telling me a story, but I don't know because he seems to have forgotten that I don't speak German.

"_Y'know, Italy, when I was a child, I was really, really powerful. I had so much land! So much… I was an empire, y'know? The Holy Roman Empire. I was so powerful, and rich, and big, but I wasn't happy._

"_Why wasn't I happy, Italy? You should know; you're always happy! When are you not happy? Tell me what makes you sad…_"

He stares at me earnestly. I think he might have just asked me a question.

"Uh… pasta?" Germany frowns. I don't think that was the right answer. "Uh…sì?" the frown deepens.

Germany shakes his head, chuckling. "_You're a strange, strange person Italy,_" he ruffles my hair, narrowly missing the sensitive curl. "_I know what makes me happy, Italy… you make me happy! But if you make me happy, then what makes me sad? Not… you… that doesn't even make sense!_"

He's raising his voice now. I think he's frustrated about something. He's frowning, thinking hard.

"_Wait… yes it does! Not you would be lonely! Loneliness makes me sad!_"

He stares at me, his expression sobering into something akin to a nostalgic smile.

"_Before I met you, I was very sad and lonely. When I was a child, I was very sad and lonely. I only had Prussia, and he's so 'awesome'. No, he's an idiot._

"_Wait! No! I'm lying! I forgot! I forgot the maid-girl! How the hell could I ever forget her?_"

His eyes widen, hand tugging at his hair as he hollers a few short sentences.

"_Italy, I don't think I've ever told you about the maid-girl, have I? No… she was very pretty. I think you would have liked her. She liked pasta, and painting, and Austria was teaching her to play the piano… yeah, I think you two would have been great friends._

"_But I have to leave her Italy! I had to leave to go to war! And I never went back, and I never saw her again!_

"_Do you want to know what I think? I think she was human. I think she died while I was at war. And do you want to know something bad, Italy? I can't even remember her name. I remember her face. I remember her dress. I remember that she used this silly little song about drawing a circle. I remember that she had a decking brush- she actually gave that decking brush to me too; it's in the storage cupboard at my house. Y'know, the one nobody's allowed in…_

"_I don't think she'd recognise me if she was still alive, anyway. I'd probably struggle to recognise her… but I've loved her for so long… since the ninth century, Italy. I've loved that nameless little maid-girl since the ninth century._"

He sits back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. I take a sip of wine, watching him carefully as he takes a lazy swig straight from the bottle, the red liquid dripping uncharacteristically messily down his chin.

"_Wherever you are,_" he addresses the empty air. "_I love you_."

I wish I knew what he'd been telling me.

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**Feels enough for you?**

**Might write a second chapter in which Italy tells Germany about Holy Rome. Might not.**

**I don't own Hetalia. Or wine.  
-Laurel Silver**


	2. Italy's History

I'm lying on the floor, Germany cradling me in his arms. About an hour ago, he'd grabbed me, screaming in my face about a little maid-girl, the only English phrase he's uttered since I uncorked the wine, before passing out, dragging me to the ground with him. And now, he isn't unconscious but asleep, and snuggles closer into me whenever I try to move away, mumbling something about pasta.

I make one last attempt to escape, only succeeding in Germany pulling me underneath him, trapping me with his training-toned body. I give a sigh, and idly run a hand through his drunkenly messed-up hair.

"Ve, Germany, you remind me of someone I used to know when I was little," I tell him, keeping my voice down as not to wake him, because I doubt a hung-over Germany would be a happy Germany. "His name was the Holy Roman Empire, or just Holy Rome.

"He wanted to do so much! He did, too! He had so much land, and power, but I was worried about him. Grandpa Rome's empire collapsed because he became too powerful, and he had lots of painful scars all over his body, and I didn't want that to happen to Holy Rome too. But it didn't.

"I loved him, Germany. Although I might have been too little to understand love back then, I think I really did love him. Before he went to war, I gave him my decking brush, to remind him of me, and he gave me a kiss. That was my first kiss, and I'm pretty sure it was his first kiss, too.

"But then he went to war. It was a long, long war, and he never came back. He lost the war, and I lost my first love.

"I doubt he would recognise me even if he was still alive; it's been so long. He probably thinks I'm a girl. Mister Austria thought I was a girl, so he gave me dresses to wear. Miss Hungary thought it was cute, so she never said anything. I was too young to understand gender properly, so I never complained; I thought it was normal for servant-boys to wear dresses.

"You really do remind me of him, Germany. You're determined, and hard-working, and protect me and look after me just like Holy Rome did. You look a little bit like him too. Sometimes I wonder if you're him reborn. Or maybe he was my guardian angel, so when he died, God was sure to send him back to me. Or something like that.

"But then you shout at me. Holy Rome wouldn't shout at me. He was shy, and blushed a lot, and would often run away when I tried to approach him. Or he'd glare at me, because he didn't know what else to do. You never do that, Germany. You just seem to shout a lot. Holy Rome never shouted."

Germany hasn't moved. He's still asleep, nose buried in the crook of my neck, his warm breath ruffling the shirt of my uniform as he snores gently.

Staring up at the ceiling, I call up to the heavens; "Holy Rome, whether you're up there with the angels or down here with me, remember this; I love you."

Snuggling into Germany's warm, I close my eyes and let sleep consume me.

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**A/N:**

**Thou hast asked-th, therefore I hast deliver-ed.**

**I don't own Hetalia  
-Laurel Silver**


	3. Prussia's Present

**Please Note; this chapter is from Prussia's point of view**

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I move out from my hiding place in cupboard as soon as Italy's squeaky snores join West's subtle ones. Apparently West was too drunk to notice me watching from my hiding place, and Italy was either too ditzy or too distracted by West's drunkenness. Either way, I've been sat in that cupboard for almost three hours, waiting for a safe time to come out, watching and listening. So of course, being fluent in both German and English, I heard and understood the confessions of both my housemates. Not that I didn't know it all already.

As quietly as I can, I sneak over the sleeping duo. I gently unlatch West's arms from Italy's torso and roll West over so they are side-by-side, as opposed to West crushing poor little Italy with his solid body.

Italy curls up instinctively, in exactly the same way as in Holy Rome's painting of his maid-girl.

I pull a blanket from the nest I had built in the cupboard and try to cover them with it, only to discover that the fleecy green fabric is too small to cover both bodies. I drape it over Italy and pull a second, this one being black, from the nest to cover West with.

Leaving them to sleep, I move almost silently to the doorway and take one last look at them over my shoulder. It way have been a trick of the dim light, but I swear to God above that I wasn't looking at my little brother West and his only friend, but at the Holy Roman Empire and his little maid-girl.

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**A/N:**

**Little bonus chapter for you, 'cause I liked the feedback I've had :)**

**Still don't own Hetalia  
-Laurel Silver**


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